Pack assimilation
by moon-soon
Summary: Stiles had just gotten used to being part of Scott's 'pack,' when Scott joined Derek and unwittingly merged the two packs. Something changes in pack dynamics when Stiles saves Boyd. The pack has accepted him but his former smaller pack is finding it hard to adjust. Stiles/Erica/Isaac/Boyd friendship... sort of.
1. Chapter 1

"So what did you get for question four?" Stiles asked his face lined with slight worry as he gnawed on the end of his pencil intently. He was pretty sure at the rate of which he was tearing into the pencil's flesh (Ew… pencil flesh, he just squiked himself out) he would snap the pencil and have a mouthful of woodchips in a few short minuets.

"Oh um I got… the villain is totally Stella… right?" Isaac told him with a worrying of his lip. His cocky grin seemed to magically melt right off his face when faced with English class, because hell. His grade might be on par with Scott McCall's in this class. Unlike Scott though, he was maintaining a B average in every other class (though admittedly a dip in his grade point average from last year, but hey. Murdered father. Physical abuse made embarrassingly public and oh yeah, he'd turned into a freaking werewolf.)

"Are you even kidding me right now?" Stiles exclaimed, punctuated with a frighteningly large hand gesture and an octave a shade to loud for the location. The teacher stared over at him just above her glasses but didn't reprimand him, because she was a substitute teacher and gave exactly no fucks as long as he wasn't trying to mutiny or set a desk on fire. "Stanley was a manipulative, racist asshole AND he RAPED Blanche and had her committed! HE'S the villain OBVIOUSLY!"

"And Stella let her husband do that to her sister," Isaac argued and his face looked a particular shade of darker that might signify he was two seconds away from being golden eyed and bushy tailed. "Blanche TOLD her that she had been raped and Stella knew that it was true, but she enjoyed her life style. She didn't want to have to DEAL with what her husband had done, and most of all she WANTED to stick it to her sister for being so snobby about her life choices so she just lets the ending happen."

Stiles shrinks back as Isaac gets more and more impassioned and people have actually stopped to listen and oh shit. He's going to shift and it's going to be horrible. Stiles reached out to Isaac on instinct because Scott always responded well to touch when he was having wolfy problems. Oh wait. That was only after Scott had claimed him as pack AND Scott actually enjoyed being touched normally, while Isaac…

Isaac's eyes widened slightly, his pupils dilated before he breathed the beast out and returned to normal. Well, normal for Isaac anyway. He flicked his wrist, so he had Stiles' wrist and it might look like a weird sort of bro handshake except Stiles was now desperately trying to get his hand back and was flexing and pulling.

Isaac brought his hand up for closer inspection and brought it closer to his face. Oh God. What was with werewolves and his wrists? If Derek's werepup bit him, he and Derek would be having words! No lie. Plus what did a bite even mean to a beta? He got that scratches were like memory roofies (memory penetration? Oh sick. He needed to find better metaphors!) So what the hell would a bite do?

"What the HELL are you two talking about? Aren't we still reading 'to kill a mockingbird?' cause I just put down racism as the answer for every question," Erica butted in loudly and the two stopped to stare at her. Isaac released Stiles' wrist and Stiles praised every deity that humanity may or may not worship.

"We finished that last week Erica" Isaac smirked, that douchebag smirk that Stiles personally thought he had learnt through careful observation of Jackson. Erica flipped her hair like she didn't much care one way or another. SHE certainly didn't have too. Before the bite, Erica had kicked so much ass in this particular class that even if she failed every test from then on she'd still be passing. Probably with a better mark than Isaac or Stiles might scrape together.

"So what are we on?" She asked as if she wasn't holding a well-worn copy of 'Streetcar named desire' in her perfectly manicured fingers. Queen of subtly she was not, but Stiles gave her an A for effort seeing as she had distracted Isaac's wolfing out without causing a scene for once. Stiles REALLY didn't need to be between the two of them when they had a catfight… dogfight? Bitch fight. Again.

"Streetcar named desire" Stiles supplied taking her book and waving it in front of her face with an ease which suggested she had let him take it from her.

"Hmmm" she purred and leaned over, placing a hand on his leg (though on the knee, which was practically demure of Erica) and whispered in his ear "will you read it to me?"

Then Isaac leaned over on his other side and mimicked Erica's move, with his hand on his leg. Clearly a move to make Stiles uncomfortable because he shamelessly squeezed Stiles' thigh and mimicked Erica's sultry tone but somehow spoke like a five year old "yeah Stiles tell us a story."

It was a funny thing when he realised HE wasn't the one being mocked for once. It made sense though. Erica and Isaac were creepy in sync and tended to follow and mirror each other's movements in a way that HAD to be instinct. They were kind of like siblings. Squabbling siblings. Stiles had actually researched and tried to find out if it was some kind of werewolf related phenomenon or a pack mentality thing to ease personal traumas. Who knows really…Stiles isn't a therapist. Though those two could certainly use one.

"Um?" Stiles voice squeaks anyway because attractive people, no. Werewolves are feeling up his legs and they want him to do more than hyperventilate? Talk about inconsiderate!

"There are thousands of papers, stretching back over hundreds of years, affecting Belle Reve as, piece by piece, our improvident grandfathers," he reads shakily and Erica grips his knee tightly enough that he can feel her claws.

"Not that part" she keens and rests her chin on his shoulder in a way that might be affectionate if it wasn't Erica Ryes they were talking about. So it's just one in a long list of super creepy things Erica likes to do to trip Stiles up. His favourite was when she declared she once had feelings for him. Worse thing about that particular instance was he couldn't tell if she was being serious or not, achieving the affect she had been aiming for either way. Making him feel like shit.

It was said in past tense, implying that he may have contributed to her depression that had sought out the wolf in the first place. That's the only word he can think of when he sees her for the first time, when she's changed. 'Reborn' as she'd like to say. Because a healthy happy person doesn't take a fifty percent chance that they might die a violent horrific death. That's just disturbed.

"Get to the part where Blanche starts murdering everyone."

Isaac is resting his hands on Stiles' other shoulder and he can't imagine what it looks like. Okay he can. It must look like two incredibly attractive people are trying to feel up a tomato at the back of a fifth period English class. Great. That will do wonders for his reputation.

"Blanche doesn't murder anyone Erica" Isaac chaises her before staring at Stiles almost imploringly. "Go on."

"Oh right… um and the… oh right and grandfathers and father and uncles and brothers exchanged the land for their epic fornications—to put it plainly." He said flatly and he doesn't miss the smirk that Erica and Isaac share over the top of his head and screw it he was not playing this stupid game.

He stands up impulsively and he thinks viciously that if they weren't such affronts to God they would at least have the decently to fall over or whatever. They had been leaning a considerable amount of weight on him. But no, the only thing his surprise attack had managed to accomplish was Erica not retracting her claws and now he had claw marks cutting through his jeans and into his skin.

"Okay… ow" he hissed and Erica shrugged at him, because she's a remorseless bitch.

They shared another look and Stiles was 'this' close to ripping out his hair. You know if he had hair. His hand flew up into the air. "Um Miss I really, really need a bathroom pass."

He bolted to the front and she looked him up and down. "Name?"

Shit. Shit right. He was on the 'no bathroom pass' list Ms Sullivan gave all the substitutes. "Oh me… I mean I'm… Danny Mehlini?"

Danny's head shot up and he glared violently and Stiles hoped from leg to leg and avoided his eye contact in hopes that Danny would mistake his spazziness for desperation to pee. Like how he had for most of sixth grade. Danny didn't say anything and Stiles vowed to himself to do something nice for Danny instead of just pretending to do nice things for Danny to get his dad off his back. Wow. His dad must think they were awesome friends and in reality Danny could barely stand him.

She handed him the pass, "hurry up- we're picking project partners and you will end up with no one if you don't high tail it."

******TEENWOLF******

The substitute had magnanimously paired 'Danny' up with two of the bookish kids at the front and written his name down on the sheet. "This is binding Danny," she waggled her finger like she had some kind of authority which duh she did not. "No takes backs."

Stiles gave her an uneasy grin and searched through the list to see who had written his name into a group. There is spikey writing was his name 'Stiles Stilinski' next to Isaac Lahey and Eric Ryes.

At least Erica hadn't had the gall to write down his actual first name, he thought hysterically. He turned and Erica wiggled her fingers in his direction.

Oh God he was going to die.

******TEENWOLF******

"I am calling an emergency pack meeting" Stiles grabbed Allison violently when she pulled away from her locker and began to manhandle her to his jeep.

"Without Scott?" she asked in surprise, granted Stiles was usually the most cautious member of the group but he had uttered the word 'pack' when they were under heavy-duty surveillance from her family.

"Scott's busy" he waved off "retaking another midterm I think. No I know. I helped him study and I am not letting him get held back just because I'm freaking distressed. The further we get away from the school, the less he can feel my heartbeat and the less chance he has of skipping out of the test early under the pretense of rescue because I am not a damsel in distress God damn it!"

"Wow" Allison blinked "did anyone ever tell you to 'use your words?' because that person was wrong. Very. Very wrong."

"Your support is overwhelming Allison" he told her dryly and she threw him a cheeky grin and he was feeling better already and they weren't even in the jeep yet.

Not long ago Derek had called Scott, Allison and Stiles a pack. Which was awesome because with that acknowledgement they actually started to 'feel' like a pack. Scott no longer felt any wolfy rage against Stiles' person. Stiles and Allison's smell actually calmed Scott down and there was also this weird connection.

Then Scott threw it out the window for justifiable reasons and joined Derek's pack. In theory that made Stiles and Allison apart of his pack too, but being humans and more inclined to free will and whatever they had never psychically let the rest of Derek's pack in or whatever. Meaning their loyalties and pack instincts still only fell within their small human pack.

Anyway what that mostly meant was that when Scott was indisposed Allison made a surprisingly good substitute and not just because she felt like a pack member. Though that did help. Like a lot.

"So I had like this… weird thing happen in English" Stiles explained and he opened the jeep door for Allison because he was a gentlemen like that and daddy Stilinski didn't raise no hoodlum (even though he kind of did.) "It's that one class I share with the weretwins."

"Erica and Isaac?" Allison supplied with sympathy, she wasn't exactly hot on them easily. It must be all the attempted homicide. Oh and Allison said Erica had hit on her once in-between threatening to steal Scott from her and it had been more than a little rapey. Stiles firmly believed that was just Erica's default that might have something to do with the bite. After all they had both had their own encounters with Peter shark-smile Hale and well Isaac wasn't so much as rapey but murdery and… yeah. Maybe he should get off this subject.

"So they were like all over me" nothing particularly new since the rave incident where they had mostly accepted him as semi-useful. "But like… different? I don't know. Erica ripped my jeans, which is totally ass because there my favourite and she KNOWS that! Plus now I have to do this presentation with them and ALLISON STOP LAUGHING AT MY PAIN!"

"I'm sorry Stiles," she giggled, not sounding sorry in the least. "But what you're telling me isn't really news they just… want to spend time with you."

"Because they plan to MURDER me?"

"Because they LIKE you," she rolled her eyes "they're werewolves so the whole pack thing… it MEANS more to them."

"We aren't a pack though," he told her seriously "I researched those stupid werewolf books you're making me read because you don't want to do your hunter homework."

"Aw you love doing my homework," she shoved him with a grin and he started up his jeep because they had been siting an indecent amount of time in a motionless vehicle. Not to be necking or whatever and he was totally letting his gender down, best friend's girlfriend clause be damned.

"Not even the littlest bit true except yeah okay maybe. ANYWAY the whole pack bond thing, it's like sex- if it's not consensual everything goes to hell in a hand basket. That's why Derek couldn't force Scott into the pack and THAT'S what makes Peter biting Scott in the first place so insane. Well insaner. He was pretty off his tree to begin with. Never mind!"

"Stiles that's gross."

"Hey not all my analgises have to be PG I'm a teenage boy woman!"

"But wolves want a pack instinctively- that's why Derek was so afforded that Scott didn't want to be in his pack. Being he was fighting against instinct."

"Scott's always fighting something" Stiles agreed "being a werewolf, the kenama, his ability to succeed, his hormones… all though considering everything. He could try and fight that last one a little more."

Allison frowned because ah no Stiles, she did not want that to happen. Scott made her take the lead in everything. She can't imagine what their relationship would be reduced to if he pulled away from her sexually. And wow that wasn't something she ever wanted for herself. That was frighteningly unhealthy, even if it was true.

"So Erica and Isaac," she prompted trying to air her thoughts a little.

"Right. So what's their deal?"

"Dunno? You know Erica said she used to have a crush on you" Allison said not for the first time. She knew it was wrong to want them to get together for the piece of mind of her dwindling relationship but she had totally jumped from the stydia ship onto the sterica ship the minuet she knew it was an option. That made her a terrible friend (but to which friend she wasn't quite sure.)

"Yeah so?" Stiles hit his steering wheel viciously "used to, as in past tense. Any other theories because Isaac has never thrown me up against the wall and confessed his feelings… Allison. Are you imagining him throwing me up against a wall? Oh you totally are! You are a horrible friend!"

"Or am I a great friend?" she grinned, "Okay now where are you taking me?"

"To the ice-cream place. You are going to buy me a double choc fudge sundae with a gratuitous amount of sprinkles and I am going to bitch to you because you've been mean to me."

"What no crushed peanuts on top?"

"I hate you, please die" he sulked and Allison laughed all the way to the ice cream place because she's a horrible bitch.

******TEENWOLF******

"Yo Boyd" Stiles waved frantically at the tall imposing boy and tried to ignore the matching set of golden ringed eyes following his movements. Erika and Isaac were really taking their creepy up a notch, and while he couldn't say they were stalking him (okay he could, and would but nobody would be convicted by the justice system on his evidence) but they were certainly increasing their efforts.

"What is it Stiles?" he growled and didn't break stride as their peers parted like the red sea for him. The other two could wear as much leather as they wanted. The only beta in Derek's pack that was the least bit intimidating in human form was Boyd. Though to be fair, intimidation may have been a pre-existing condition.

"I was just wondering if Derek had set the wonder twins on me for any particular reason? I mean we're all on the same side now. If he needs information he can just ask."

"The wonder twins?" Boyd repeated slowly and unsurely and then he picked up a faint growl admitting from behind him that was definitely Erika. Oh. Wonder twins. Heh.

"Derek didn't tell them to do anything" he told Stiles shortly and stopped in front of his locker. "Maybe they just want to hang or whatever because you're in our pack now."

"I'm not-"

"You're pack now" Boyd said firmly "you are to Derek and you are to me and I'm sure you are to them. They've already submitted to you."

"When?" Stiles asked startled and had a horridly vivid image of Isaac and Erika baring their necks that he could really do without... well. He could do without the image of Isaac, the idea that Erika would bare anything to him wasn't exactly unappealing.

"During the rave... they let you lead the interrogation and followed you as a higher chain of command."

"Then why are they messing with me?"

Boyd shrugged "they're kind of douche bags. Hadn't you noticed?" Stiles snorted and Boyd gave him a wiry grin.

He leant into Stiles personal space (which made six for six in werewolves not respecting his personal space bubble.) "I think... they're trying to scent Mark you."

"They what?"

"Like this" Boyd picked up Stiles wrist "none of us are very good at it." he rolled his hand over the wrist only to stop when Erika stalked over and pulled Boyd's increasing grip from Stiles' wrist.

"What are you doing?" she snapped at Boyd, "you're not supposed to-"

"Scott's really good at scent marking" Boyd explained and wow. That explained Scott's increased cuddly behaviour since Derek started turning people. Stiles had just thought Scott had missed Allison.

"Ohhhhhh" Stiles said and then crossed his arms. "Okay guys seriously stop doing that. Next you'll be pissing around my house and that's so not cool."

Boyd snickered again and Stiles threw up his hands "you guys suck." He stormed off, the effect slightly lessened when Erika trailed after him.

******TEENWOLF******

Stiles hadn't anticipated things going bump in the night fucking up his social time and his fragile relationship with his father but he really, really should have known better.

Something had been off between Scott and Allison for a while and more recently something had been incredibly off about Allison. He should have done something. Forget pack etiquette or whatever. Allison was a friend. She had snuck up on him and become his second best friend. Someone he was very willing to risk his life for and someone he loved.

Something had happened to her mother and it turned out that was just the tip of the iceberg for Allison's many, many problems.

It was just their luck that the night things came to a head was also the night Lydia reached the boil on what turned out to be not a psychosis problem at all but something much more sinister. Really. It was just like Lydia to upstage everyone else, regardless of the topic. Even emotional turmoil. Lydia Martin was the best at everything.

That was why Stiles found himself in his jeep frantically driving one injured werewolf and two terrified werewolves to an abandoned subway station at three o'clock in the morning. His father wouldn't approve. Though maybe he would be marginally relieved to hear that he wasn't selling drugs, which was most likely his current school of thought. He might even feel better that Stiles hadn't gotten him fired over a childish prank but rather a childlike attempt to stop a serial killing lizard.

God. Where did his dad think he was right now? He was supposed to be grounded.

Boyd let out another whimper and contorted from his position in the backseat. Isaac mimicked the sound as Boyd's claws ripped into the flesh of his hand. Stiles had warned Isaac that hand holding might not be the best course of action but the boy had insisted. Their was something totally innocent in the boy's eyes when he said that he wanted to help Boyd in any way possible and Stiles felt the red hot reminder of the boy Isaac used to be.

"Hold on," Stiles told him. Boyd had been shot. Which was really starting to become a pattern for him. This time a hunter had emptied what felt like a clip of wolfs bane tipped bullets. Obviously not at the potency of Kate's bullets, (probably because they weren't infused with pure psychotic hate) so Boyd had to be shot twice for them to take him down.

He was feeling it now and Boyd let out another howl, which strangled off at the end like a cat that had its tail stepped on.

Erica curled into herself on the front and nursed her own gaping wound, but he knew that one would heal on it's own. Stiles tried not to think of the sheer blood volume being lost in his car. He might have to reupholster his seats and pay for them with his imaginary money seeing as they didn't have enough for food so jeep repair was well off the table. With his luck his dad would just take his jeep off him all together.

"Where are we?" Erica looked up as he hastily parked the car. They were about halfway the distance between Derek's 'home' and Stiles house. She stared out at an empty as Stiles chose not to elaborate and ran to the back of the lot. "Picking up provisions," he muttered knowing they could hear him.

He stops in front of the thicket. He knew it would be here. He planted it after all. He thought it would be best to have wolfsbane in an easy to access place, but not growing somewhere a werewolf might actually stumble on it. So he had scouted out until he found this empty lot. Apparently the land had a swamp like quality that made it unsuitable for building so Stiles knew it would be the perfect place.

Stiles originally just kept a dried, powdered version in his glove box. It was good when he wanted to blind a werewolf attacker but he needed a stronger version if he was going to save Boyd. He picked great swatches of the purple flower before racing back to the car.

The three cringed as he entered the jeep again and Stiles tucked the flower into the tool box he kept in the boot to reduce the scent. He needed to get to the subway station now. He couldn't pull the bullets out on some random street. He couldn't stick wolfsbane into a person's gaping wounds without at least raising some eyebrows. Someone would call the cops and he didn't exactly have pull there anymore. Just about every cop on the force hated his guts right now for getting his dad fired. He was well loved on the force and Stiles… Stiles was not.

Erica was healed now and when he went to start the jeep she manhandled him. "I can get him there quicker," she pulled him over into her seat and climbed over him to get into the driver's seat. She reeved the jeep and Stiles began morning the inevitable death of his poor jeep.

"You are so paying for new tiers," he moaned as she took off with a sharp jolt "Jesus! Do you even know how to use a stick?"

"Boyd and I will go splitsies," Erica told him unconcerned but Boyd made another pained noise, probably because he hated coughing up money for anything. Cheap bastard.

They reached their location in record time and the jeep may or may not be billowing smoke. There was no time to think of that as Erica and Isaac lifted Boyd inside.

"Set him down on… okay don't set him on the couch. Can you even call that a couch? No- just set him on the table. Okay. Okay. Just let me clear it first! Nobody wants a fork in their back."

Boyd withered on the table and Stiles nodded and Isaac climbed onto of the boy to hold him still. He had been shot in the shoulder and the leg so Erica went to the feet to hold them steady. Stiles chucked down his toolbox which underneath the first layer of tools was really a were-box.

He pulled out some retractors and tweezers and winced at the horrified look on Boyd's face. "Oh yeah this is going to hurt like a bitch. Isaac, I'm going to do the shoulder first. Do you have him?"

Isaac braced himself and his face was right next to Boyd's, he was basically straddling his stomach and if it hadn't been a life or death situation, Stiles might have giggled. Okay, no time like the present.

Boyd howled in pain as the bullet came out and arched up. Isaac tried to keep him still, but it wasn't a werewolf howl either. It was the kind of bone chilling howl he'd heard in the hospital when his mother was sick and her roommate started vomiting blood and seizing violently. It was the kind of howl he'd heard from the locked down ward where they kept the mentally unstable people.

It sounded unsettlingly human.

"Good… you're doing good" Stiles smoothed Boyd's non-existing hair and tried not to quake as Boyd's pinprick pupils were drowned out by fiery gold. "One more to go… Erica, you got a good hold?"

Boyd had evidently kicked Erica in the chest as some point and she was breathing through her cracked ribs. "Yes" she hissed painfully, though he didn't think that the pain just came from her physical wounds. Holding a pack mate down must go against every instinct they had. "Do it. Now."

The thigh was easier than the shoulder. He threw the bloodied towel he'd been using to mop the blood up to the ground when the other came out. Okay that part was done.

"Is he better now?" Isaac whined hopefully and Stiles ran his hand down Isaac's face so his eyes retreated back to their big brown selves.

"Just a little longer," he pulled out the wolfs bane and they all hissed violently. He stripped the flowers and without warning stuffed them into Boyd's wound on his shoulder. Boyd got a hand free and tore at Stiles' skin before Isaac grabbed it again.

"Shit STILES!" he screamed but the double vision was already starting and he didn't have time to stem the bleeding as he stuck his finger into the second bullet hole, digging the wolfsbane deep into the wound.

Boyd screamed and screamed and screamed.

Stiles' eyes rolled back into his head.

Flash. He's at a structured looking flat house and looking up into the eyes of his mother. No. Boyd's mother. This is Boyd's memory. Flash. "I don't know what were going to do honey." His mother-not his mother says. "But I don't think I can work there anymore. Please tell me you understand." Flash.

Boyd.

"Tell me you understand."

Stiles gasped awake and he could only have been gone for a second and Boyd is looking down at him. He's fuzzy and out of place. All dark lines around a white fuzzy background.

"Are" his voice is layered and full with regret, "are you alright?"

"No sweat," Stiles said softly and that's when he realised Erica is so very close to him. Cleaning the wound on the juncture between his neck and shoulder with her tongue. "Okay. WHAT THE FUCK?"

She pulls back and the wound is closed and scarred. So maybe that's the fuck. Stiles should really remember this the next time he gets injured, but only if Erica does it. Stiles is very. Very glad it was her and not Isaac or Boyd who was doing that.

"I'm in your head," Stiles giggled deliriously as things came back into sharp vision. Boyd grimaced a little and nodded. "Then I welcome you graciously," he told Stiles seriously.

"Okay so… sleep? I think we should sleep."

******TEENWOLF******

He really, honest to God hadn't meant together. He figured that Erica and Isacc would want to be close to Boyd because he was still weak and Scott did that to him when he got sick because it was a wolf thing, but he didn't realise they had wanted to include him.

They had been all sneaky about it too.

Isaac had graciously given Stiles his bed because the couch was a piece of shit and sleeping in Derek's bed gave him the willies. He assumed they were all off to cuddle on Derek's bed and feel asleep quickly.

He woke up like he was on fire half an hour later to the sound of a phone ringing. Boyd was half curled around him and Erica was practically on top of him. In the dark he could make out the shape of Isaac on Boyd. This was a dog-pile. That was the only way he could describe it.

Stiles still half asleep addled and he groped for the phone and opened it before he realised. Wait. This wasn't his phone.

"Boyd honey this is just a wake up call. You need to get up now if you want to make it to school," Boyd's mother's voice range out through the phone. Stiles winced and it was layered with memories of her begging her son to understand something and a new one sobbing about something to do with Boyd's father.

"Um… hi sorry this is Stiles… Boyd's still sleeping," he said without thinking. Oh shit. Where did she think Boyd was right now?

"Stiles" she said warmly "it's so good to finally hear your voice. You know it really is so nice of you to let Boyd stay over when you guys have study sessions. I've never seen my son so impassioned about schoolwork before, and all your sessions are really paying off. I really would love to meet you."

What. The. Hell.

Stiles jabs Boyd hard in the side and Boyd's eyes snap open and Stiles glared. "Wow" he said a shade to brightly, "that sounds great, I'll just pass the phone off to your son then?"

Stiles watched Boyd's eyes widen slightly and snatch the phone off him as he disentangled himself from the group to answer the call.

"Does he pretend to be studying at my house a lot?" Stiles stretched and Isaac wiggled his way into Boyd's place. He didn't even have the energy to be mad about the gross violation of space. Nobody looked like they were going to kill him so this pack bonding shit wasn't all to bad.

"Yeah… I'm kind of an orphan and the whole town thinks I killed my dad," Isaac points out "and Erica… is a girl."

Boyd snorts as he walks back into the room "so she SAYS." Erica throws a pillow at him somehow without breaking her snuggle grip on Stiles.

"You make the most sense. My mum used to work with your dad before they kicked her off the force."

"Your mum and my dad have that in common," Stiles said bitterly and three sets of eyes snapped on him. He sighed heavily "apparently stealing a police car and the number of other of shady things I've done reflect badly on him so poof no more job."

"But-" Erica started but Stiles cut her off with a sharp movement of his head.

"I am so not talking to you guys about this" and stood up, wiggling free from Erica's grip. She had serious kung fu grip. What was she not hugged as a child? You know actually that would make a lot of sense.

"Does this place have running water?" Stiles asked, checking his phone to answer one of Scott's fifty messages. He then sent a message to his dad who was probably still asleep because he was doing that now that he was unemployed and told him he'd left for school early to work on an English project.

"Sort of?"

******TEENWOLF******

Sort of really, really wasn't good enough Stiles had decided. He also had to suffer through the wearing of an oversized pair of Isaac's jeans, which he needed to roll up several time because Isaac was a lanky narrow fucker and this was the best he could do. He was also drowning in one of Boyd's shirts, luckily mostly hidden under a mercifully bloodstain free spare hoodie found in jeep.

Allison came up to him and school and wrinkled her nose. "You… smell weird."

"What? No. Thank God your alive Stiles after we got separated just a casual observation on my inability to have a proper shower this morning? That's it. I'm skipping lunch to wash in the locker room."

"No!" Allison grabbed his wrist "that's not what I meant."

She took his hand and wrapped it around her shoulder, which was weird and she seemed to think so too because she looked like she had no idea why she had done it. "W-walk me to the cafeteria?"

It was worse at the Cafeteria. Allison was content with an arm around her shoulder but Scott had plastered himself to Stiles' side and refused to move. It made it hard to eat lunch but Scott seemed unconcerned. Allison seemed unconcerned too, which was weird since she really shouldn't be seen in public with them. "Where were you last night?" Scott growled like Stiles hadn't texted him about his location.

"I had to help Boyd." Speak of the devil, Boyd walked up to them awkwardly holding his lunch tray.

"Hi… can I sit with you?"

Stiles said, "sure… aren't we supposed to be best friends or something?" in the cheeky manner that conveyed he really wasn't pissed at him so he didn't have to ask or anything. The exact time Scott growled "no."

Boyd sat anyway.

"I'm sorry about last night," he said regretfully "have you had anymore flashes?"

Allison was quicker on the uptake and looks appalled, gripping her bag with one hand (which probably holds her retractable crossbow) and the other on Stiles' bicep. "You… scratched him."

Scott tensed like a cat and Boyd did the same so Stiles waved his hands manically. "Not that I don't appreciate you willing to fight for my honour or whatever Scott it was totally an accident. Right Boyd?"

"You smelt like him before," Scott whined like he didn't know how pathetic he was being "and now you reek of all of them."

"Because I spent the night," Stiles rolled his eyes. "And before? Boyd was explaining scent marking to me, because Erica and Isaac were being douchebags by scent marking me to piss you off. Kind of like…how you two are marking me… now. Allison! Do you even know you're doing that?"

Allison pulled away in surprise, and clearly she had been acting on that weird pack instinct that affected both of them. Scott knew though and sighed.

"You're in my pack not theirs."

"Ah wrong actually. You joined Derek's pack meaning WE did too," Stiles explained and Scott's eyes widened in that predictable slow way he was prone to. Scott obviously hadn't thought about what joining a pack meant for the rest of them. They didn't just to continue being a pack and the pack certainly didn't dissolve without an alpha. The packs had just… merged. Even if Derek hadn't had time to initiate them officially.

Isaac walked up to the table (well slunk really, Isaac Lahey didn't just walk anymore, he slipped, skulked and moved like fluid.) "Hey" he ignored Scott completely and Allison moved over to Scott to comfort her boyfriend. "You okay now?"

"Yup" Stiles grinned, "Nothing keeps me down for long." Belatedly remembering that he didn't really like Isaac all that much. Damn it. Derek's pack had gotten under his skin. Was that the plan all along?

"Cool because our English assignment is due today."

"WHAT?"

Stiles dragged Isaac forcibly off to the library and was on the phone with Erica yelling to her that she better get her butt to the library ASAP because he was NOT failing another assignment due to this werewolf bullshit.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles' dreams used to be populated with images of Lydia. Sometimes in that little nightie she was wearing when she was drugged out of her mind. Sometimes she was in the bikini he had caught a glimpse of on the mandatory school swim meet competition. Sometimes it was just her… looking up at him in adoration. In a way he fully intends to make happen one of these days.

Lately unfortunately, he had been dreaming about Boyd. And Ew. Not in a gross way. That would just be awkward for everyone.

Stiles now knew an unsettling amount of information on his tall broody classmate and his past. Stiles had endeavored to tell Boyd every time he had a flash so Boyd wouldn't feel betrayed or whatever if it ever came up. After the third early morning call where Boyd would probably be sleeping because he didn't have ADHD and had never been conditioned by a sadistic parent to wake up early. Boyd had pinky promised he wouldn't feel betrayed if Stiles knew stuff about him that might be deemed to personal.

It was his own fault anyway. He had inflicted this particular curse on Stiles, not the other way around.

Stiles could argue that it wasn't exactly Boyd's fault either but Boyd just hung up the phone. Probably determined to get another ten minuets of sleep before his mother resorted to dumping ice-cold water on him to wake him up.

Stiles knew this was his mother's preferred method of waking Boyd up since Stiles had actually woken up to the foreign memory of having icy water poured on his head. It seemed a little cruel but had effectively woken him up, and Stiles was relieved it had only been the sensation and not actually happened. Stiles had JUST washed his sheets yesterday.

"Stiles," his dad called through the door and Stiles threw his phone into his pocket and opened the door to stick his head out. "Yeah dad?"

"Just wanted to see if you're up," his dad said uselessly and Stiles' whole body seized up at the sight. His dad was the least useless adult in the world but somehow Stiles had ruined that for him. The same way he ruined everything for him.

His dad's eyes narrowed past Stiles into his room, staring directly at where Stiles had been combing through files of evidence he should no way have access too. Even less so now that his dad lost his position as sheriff.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked, his sheriff hat on. Clearly he had his second cup of coffee for the day. His investigation skills weren't worth a damn before that. Shit. If he's working his way through coffee number three Stiles is well and truly boned.

"Oh you know. Just homework."

His dad looked tired and just nodded mindlessly and Stiles would feel terrible if it didn't mean he was getting away with lying point blank.

"Oh... okay." He leaves and Stiles dives back to his research only to have his dad walk back in like he'd just been through the world's shittiest revolving door. "Stiles" he said slowly, giving him his most assessing look, "school is over. What are you doing homework for?"

Stiles gave him an innocent look. Futile really. His dad had been immune to innocent looks since Stiles was eight and 'accidentally' convinced Scott to help liberate Ms. Libard's lemon tree of it's fruit for their lemonade stand (80c per cup plus tax- pricey but of good quality.) Stiles never understood what her deal was. He was doing her a FAVOUR. If he took all her fruit then maybe she would stop sucking lemons and she wouldn't scare all the neighbour kids anymore. He'd practically done a community service!

"I'm eager to learn dad," he said in his most fake sincere voice. "All your wonderful parenting has instilled me with a great sense of personal responsibility and thirst for knowledge."

He stared at him for a moment before swiping the papers clean out of his hands. "Give me that- this better not be porn."

"Written porn is totally for girls dad" Stiles scolded. "Because their more right brained thinkers- men prefer visual aids. Lots and lots of visual aids."

His dad was no longer paying any mind to his witty retorts as he stared at the papers. "Son... you don't. You don't have to solve this for me."

His dad's voice broke in a way no dad's voice should ever break. Certainly not his dad anyway, the man had an image to maintain after all. Stiles likewise heard his voice break outrageously as he replied.

"Well... I have to do something."

His dad sighed like a much older man and sagged down next to him, "what do you have?"

******TEENWOLF******

After his father-son criminal sleuthing pow-wow, Stiles excused himself to go buy a present for Lydia's birthday. He had put it off for long enough. Anyway he had a great idea about stuffing a big box with newspaper and giving her a bracelet or something equally girly and impractical.

He had been daydreaming at the mall when he was rudely interrupted.

"The full moon is in tomorrow," Isaac said suddenly appearing behind Stiles and scaring the shit out of him.

"Ah! Holy God!" Stiles flailed around a little bit, vaguely aware that he looked like a badly startled, mortally injured parakeet. "Why do you insist on doing that?!"

"The full moon, what are you doing that night?" Isaac prompted again because he clearly had no manners, which Stiles needed to talk to Derek about because a lack of manners was a frightening trend in all his pack members. (Excluding himself of course... and Allison. Allison bought him ice cream when he was feeling crappy so she was deemed awesome.)

"You know I don't go furry once a month right?" Stiles exclaimed, "There's no real reason to be telling me this." Isaac crossed his arms impatiently, another move parodied. Though this one reeked of Derek's influence. Stiles was waiting for the day Isaac slipped back into his skin and stopped hiding in other people's, though it didn't look like that day was coming soon.

"Okay... so Lydia invited me to her birthday," Stiles admitted. She had gripped his hand so tightly and made him promise to be there. She looked a little peaky, and was probably just worried about keeping her numbers up. Lydia's stock had taken a nosedive since the attack and subsequent panic attacks. He could sympathize. He knew how sucky they could be, both with panic attacks and shitty popularity status.

"She even gave me a plus one... and I was going to invite you... but then I remembered it was the full moon and you were gonna be all wolfy and stuff."

Isaac looked like his axis had shifted two inches to the left (i.e. looked like he was going to hurl everywhere) before stuttering, "plus one?"

Oh no. It seemed like Isaac was so socially incompetent he didn't even know what a plus one was! "Oh dude! Sorry, sorry. It means when the invite includes the option to bring-"

"A date?" Isaac asked with a smirk, his composure regained. It was Stiles' turn to spluttered and feel caught off guard.

"Or a friend, dude!" Stiles exclaimed with a wild punctuation of hands and odd facial expressions. Isaac finally broke composure, sniggering. This was the point Stiles realised he was being played like a five buck crockenspiel (which was a toy glockenspiel surrounded by a plastic crocodile, obviously.)

"You know what a plus one is... don't you?" Stiles asked with a flattened expression and Isaac nodded, though his snickering had made a segway into a genuine grin of delight and Stiles couldn't deny him. So what if Isaac got his jollies off making Stiles' life difficult? It was kind of nice to see him looking more like a sixteen year old and less like a baby sourwolf in training.

"I was just surprised you would want to invite me..." Isaac's voice was now riddled with insecurity. Or as riddled as Isaac's man ego would allow.

"It's not like we're friends or anything..."

Oh Isaac.

"I did threaten to kill her- I even tried to, and I ended up hurting you."

Oh. Isaac.

Stiles slung his arm around Isaac in a way he was hoping was companionable. Poor little psycho wolf didn't know how to exist in the real world. Or at least the world Stiles existed in. Which one might debate wasn't considered the real world anyway.

Isaac's dysfunction was sad in a sort of endearing way. Not to mention a terrifying way. Damn this whole pack connection was really doing a number on him. He was feeling... familial affection towards Isaac. Gross. It was like having the little brother Stiles had absolutely never wanted (that's what Scott was for after all.)

"It's all water under the bridge really... plus I thought maybe if you lived out that particular high school fantasy. You'd have less of an urge to murder the love of my life, ya know?"

"Just... like that. You forgive me?"

"Woah, not just like that" Stiles shook his head exuberantly but was grinning despite himself. "First promise you'll not try and kill my lady again."

"Stiles... you don't have a lady-"

"Promise," his said in his most threatening voice. Stiles was vaguely aware that's this was like a mouse threatening a lion.

But whatever, Stiles was like the world's most resourceful mouse. He could take down one measly lion in a pinch. If he really had to. Probably... okay maybe not in any real life application of that idea. He could possibly beat Isaac at a match of minesweeper to the death, in a pinch. Probably. Maybe.

If that sort of thing ever came up.

"Right" Isaac said quickly and easily, "of course. I promise."

"Awesome," Stiles grinned "okay. Now why did you need to know where I'd be on the full moon?"

"I..." he looked up momentarily worried before steeping himself. "Erica and Boyd have never gone through the change before."

Stiles nodded, though he really didn't understand where Isaac was going with this. "So Derek has been going through the... you know. Talk." He let Stiles snigger because the idea of Derek giving what was traditionally considered 'the talk' was equal parts appalling and hilarious. This talk had obviously not been any kind of picnic either. "He's been more thorough this time because the pack is bigger. Derek thinks there is going to be an issue with Scott."

"What about Scott?"

"We're going to want to be close to him... when we're in our most primal state."

Stiles could understand that, Scott always wanted to be close to Stiles or Allison when he changed. Though that hadn't exactly been good news in the earlier days. Seeing as biting and attacking each other was natural to wolves and Scott's wolf seemed to be as much of a dumb-ass as Scott and couldn't tell the difference between a squishy breakable human and a durable unsquishy werewolf.

"Dude I hate to be the barer of bad news. Especially since you have all those sharp teeth, but I don't think Scott is gonna wanna hang out on the full moon."

Isaac shook his head like Stiles couldn't understand something important. "I'm not worried about Scott."

"But you just said-"

"DEREK is worried about him" Isaac snorted, "he thinks he's like the second fucking coming or whatever but the rest of us remain mostly unbounded to him in any meaningful way. The same goes for our OTHER unofficial pack member."

"Yeah... but then the only other person who actually got around to the bonding thing was..." Stiles tailed off in horror and Isaac nodded grimly.

"You."

******TEENWOLF******

"So that sounded bad right?"

Allison and Scott share a horrified looked briefly, and Stiles shrugged. Isaac had informed him that Derek had the whole thing handled but just wanted to tell him, so he could be carrying a weapon just in case. Stiles had the utmost confidence he could have in Derek (which is in fact none at all.)

He thanked Isaac profusely for giving him terrible, terrible nightmares and went to stand next to the werewolf he knew wasn't tempted to rip out his throat anymore (or so he hoped... Scott didn't have much to say on the subject.)

"Could they come after Allison?" Scott asked because it seemed that WAS where his priorities were. Only to be shamefaced when Allison shot him a look, but remained imploring.

"THANK YOU for that overwhelming concern Scott, I am truly touched." Stiles told him sarcastically and Scott made sad puppy noises at him until Stiles couldn't be mad at him anymore. Damn. That was WAY more effective than puppy dog eyes.

"No" he finally said, "she is barely considered in the pack because nobody ever stalked her and scent marked the crap out of her. Besides you, of course."

"I thought that didn't matter if the person was a..." Allison looked shiftily to Scott before muttering, "you know. Mate."

"Hey you two can mate all you want," Stiles rolled his eyes as Scott went bright red and dreamy. Allison seemed to be aware Stiles knew every intimate detail of their relationship anyway, so she never shied away from talking about that kind of stuff anymore. "It doesn't make you mates."

"What?"

"I can't believe I have had to look this up since I'M not the participant of any werewolf sex- or you know any kind of sex. But after you guys called me up in a panic on the night of your collective loss of virginities I thought it would be prudent to have a working knowledge on the subject." he told them, stressing how much extra research he had to put in so they could get it on.

They both muttered awkward apologies, much like they had at two o'clock in the morning one night when they had called in a blind panic. Stiles now understood their fixture on the word bestiality a little better.

"ANYWAY- I am choosing to purge that memory so let's not talk about it. What we can talk about is that mates are essentially like being werewolf married. You need to do some sort of ceremony, and you kind of need the Alpha's permission so no, you two are DEFINENTLY not mates. Now let's agree not to discuss THIS again either."

"What about you then?" Allison asked because she was a kind-hearted soul who actually cared about Stiles' welfare. Unlike his best friend who seemed to have fixated on the word mate and checked out of the conversation at that point.

"What can we do?"

"Isaac said Derek has it under control and started talking about some TRUELY horrifying medieval torture devices that will be featuring in my nightmares. Isaac just told me because he thought I should be prepared in case something goes wrong... which is actually quite prudent of him actually."

"What's prudent about scaring you shitless?" Scott growled, seeming to check back into the conversation. He probably could smell the thick waves of fear and anxiety pouring off him. It was probably mixing with Allison's own feelings, who wasn't looking so good herself.

Plus that pack-bonding thing apparently alerted Scott of their wellbeing at all times, anyway.

"It means that Stiles will stick with us on the full moon and everything will be fine." Allison told Scott and carded her fingers through his hair gently to calm him down.

Scott flopped back on the forest floor and winced as the pine needles poked his back. The forest had unfortunately become their meeting place since Allison's mum tried to kill Scott and had been tearing shit up since the rave. She seemed to be on a hunting tear. Another reason Stiles was concerned about the full moon.

Scott pulled Allison down and they lay together on the pine floor, snuggling. Aaaand now Stiles was going to be a lonely depressed human by himself. Hey. Which human might be mauled tomorrow night? Huh Scott? What's the worst thing that could happen to Allison this full moon?! Probably nothing!

Scott's hand snaked up and pulled him down too.

"Ew Scott- I'm going to smell like forest!"

"I like the smell of the forest," Scott said dopily and then stared intently at Stiles, his mood changing dramatically. "Just... don't get hurt okay Stiles? I don't think I could handle it."

"You and me both," he replied solemnly. "I have a very low threshold for pain."

******TEENWOLF******

Lydia was going through some shit. As so clearly highlighted the night Allison's mum went off her tree and Lydia had appeared covered head to toe in dirt and babbling in what Stiles might take an educated guess in being archaic Latin.

She was still insanely beautiful, intelligent and amazing. Or though unfortunately a little bit more heavily accented on the insane part as of late.

Allison reported back to him that she seemed back to her normal self when she came over to destroy Allison's self esteem and fashion choices that afternoon. Apparently this was a girl thing though and that was cool.

Allison's creepy mum had been trying to get Allison alone all day. Or at least what she relayed to Stiles and Scott through Stiles' IM. Though she hadn't referred to her mum as creepy. That was just Stiles' opinion (and most definitely Scott's since the pencil sharpening incident.)

Stiles suggested that she might as well talk to her. If anything, she was probably in the sanity slipping state to reveal whatever her grandfather was up to. Allison was being stubborn though and Scott was predictably agreeing with whatever she said (well in this case wrote.)

He was just signing off when Scott went ridged next to him and starting growling. "What is it lassie?" Stiles said distractedly "Timmy down a well?"

"No but you might be in a moment," a familiar voice snarled at him. Stiles caught his shoulders tense in a way that was just embarrassing because he was SO not afraid of Derek Hale anymore. Not since he had met his pedowolf uncle and realised Derek wasn't really the big bad wolf, he was more like the huntsman (messed up analogy there- it seemed like it wasn't just his metaphors that needed work. Weak.)

"Derek," Scott drew out pained like they weren't all on the same side. Like Derek wasn't his alpha.

"Scott," he said back in what Stiles might thinks is an imitation of Scott's tone. Erica was by his side and shot Stiles a small indulgent smile before she grabbed his hand and dragged him to the bed.

"They need to talk," she told him as if he couldn't work that out for himself. Then she scrunched up her nose "you smell like the forest." Then a disgusted look crossed her face "you smell like... Allison."

"What does she smell like?" Stiles said idly as he watched Derek and Scott have a private and heated discussion. He thought it was bullshit that Derek wasn't being forthcoming. It wasn't like Scott wouldn't tell Stiles later. The Alpha posturing seemed a bit useless.

"She smells like ice and silver," she said after some deliberation.

"Do those things even have scents?" Stiles asked curiously and sat up straighter to look at her.

"Yes" she snapped, though it seemed more out of embarrassment than annoyance. "Though emotion and personal feelings effect the smell to a certain degree-Scott probably thinks she smells more like rain."

"Dew actually," Stiles corrects mildly and Erica makes another face. One he had seen before. The one that said; you spend too much time with Scott. "So what about me then? What do I smell like?"

"Pack" she responds immediately. Well. That answered the question of whether they thought of Allison as pack or not.

"Yeah but what else?"

She doesn't answer and changes the subject. "It's the full moon tonight."

"Yeah... hey. Why aren't you all feraly? Seeing as it's your first moon," he asked and then told her in a mock whisper added "Scott tried to kill me the first time."

Scott, who had been keeping a werewolf ear free for eavesdropping let out a sad keening sound at the mention of almost killing Stiles. "That was an accident," he whined before Derek slammed his head into the wall to make him pay attention.

"Actually... so did Isaac. I hope that's not some weird werewolf initiation thing. Though I guess you've ALREADY tried to kill me," Stiles babbled, "which is typical right. I mean girls mature faster than boys and they have better organizational skills as well as-"

Erica covered his mouth with her hand and rested her head on his shoulder. "I won't kill you tonight Stiles..."

"You can't make those kinds of promises. I mean do you even have an anchor yet?"

"Anchor?" she raised an eyebrow and the two other werewolves seemed to stop their conversation to blatantly listen. Derek was looking at him in that way he sometimes did when Stiles had worked something out. That same over interested look Peter gave him right before he had offered the bite.

"Um... that's what I've been calling it, I'm not sure what Derek calls it. It's just this thing that calms you down on the moon, because before Scott started focusing all his attention on Allison during a change he was wild. So Allison is his anchor."

"So I need to be like in love? Or do I just need to focus on a person?" Erica asked Stiles even though Derek 'the Alpha' Hale was right there.

"I... don't THINK so?" Stiles said unsurely, "I mean sourwolf manages without feeling more than two emotions."

"I focus on anger," Derek said crossing his arms and frowning (which was pretty much his default expression.)

"That's one of his two emotions. Anger and the other one is more anger," he whispered to an amused Erica.

Derek growled and Stiles pointed at the man as if his point had been proven more so. "Anyway I thought Derek would have already gone through this and helped you work out what your anchor was..."

Suddenly Stiles was up against a wall and Derek is bearing down him. Stiles can see Erica just over his shoulder standing up in surprise and Scott looks pissed. Derek doesn't usually push him up against walls when Scott's around so Scott is especially pissed.

"I've. Been. Busy."

"Too busy to punctuate correctly? Look I don't care," Stiles rolled his eyes, "you don't answer to me. Do what you like."

Derek shot him another conflicted look and Stiles made a note to research pack dynamics when his schedule freed up. This seemed like a pack thing and Stiles lacked the instinct and super senses to fully understand what was happening.

"Right," Derek said and let go of Stiles' jacket. Which was good because that was his best jacket and he didn't want to have to iron it again or sew holes where Derek tore it with his wolf claws before Lydia's party.

"Good boy," Stiles cooed and petted his head because obviously he was suicidal. Only a suicidal person would do something so monumentally stupid.

Derek just pulled his face very close to Stiles', which caused him to stumble back and connect painfully with the doorknob. Derek flashed him an expanse of pearly White canines, which just served to disturb him further. There was something deeply unsettling about Derek grinning at him.

"I think we're done here," Derek smirked at Stiles before tearing his eyes away from Stiles. Erica jumped up as Derek shuffled away and advanced on Stiles. Crowding in even closer than Derek had been before and placed her hands on his hips.

"Don't miss me too much," she told him with a flirtatious smile, and presses a small and unnecessary kiss to his collar bone. Right next to where Boyd had dug his claws into him.

She let go and flicked her hair. Sparing a small smile in Scott's direction. It was the most affection his werewolf friend had seen from Erica since he had joined the pack cementing the fact that a) Derek totally changed her to seduce Scott into the pack and b) Erica wasn't actually all that interested. She pole-vaulted out of the window because she never missed a chance to show boat and disappeared into the afternoon sun.

"They DO realise they could have used the door right? It's not even night yet!"

Scott raised a hand to keep Stiles silent until he had determined the wolves were out of hearing range. A resigned look crossed his friend's face. "I... uh have to make a call."

"To Allison?" Stiles asked "dude can't it wait- I was going to play Tetris on my phone!"

"I'll use my own phone," Scott said distractedly and picked up his phone.

Stiles caught his arm, "is that safe?"

"It'll be fine" Scott snapped before he gave Stiles a softer look. Scott always took him snapping at Stiles in a wolfy manner to be a personal failing. "I... just need to make a call."

He left. No really. Not just the room. He left the house like Stiles had some freaky super hearing when they all knew he was almost the only person who DIDN'T have it. He could have just chit chatted and broke the security they had with Allison in the bathroom.

Stiles pulled up Tetris with a shrug. He's never 'not' trusted Scott and he wasn't going to start now. The game was unfortunately cut short when his phone started ringing.

"Bat-phone- Bruce Wayne is currently fighting evil or napping through a shareholders meeting- please leave a message," he answered because yes. He was a dork. A familiar laugh responded and sent his blood cold. The laugh was familiar because Allison laughed the exact same way every time she called and he answered in a new and exciting way.

Scott wasn't on the phone with Allison. So who WAS he speaking too?

And more importantly

Why had Scott lied to him?

******TEENWOLF******

Allison is sticking close to him and even got him a mini crossbow. She presented it to him like some fucking corsage because apparently that was hilarious. She seemed a little relieved for the company. Matt was still following her like a first-rate stalker and Scott was still pissy because it was the full moon and probably still pissy about the rave. Oh and the mysterious phone calls of mysteriousness to his mysterious friend that Stiles didn't know about. Who was obviously mysterious.

It was only on full moon nights Scott aloud himself to be annoyed with Allison. For the last couple of days he had tried to hold it together and be good to her. It had been an honest mistake on her part. Honest mistakes didn't matter much to a wolf though. Especially on full moon nights.

"The place is empty," Stiles exclaimed as he put down his giant gag present on the present's table and looked around. Allison made a distressed noise and began to petition Scott to fill the party with people. He was resistant at first but he really couldn't deny her anything and after a few moments pulled out his phone and called the team.

"Less people would be better for spotting Jackson," Stiles pointed out again as Scott had made at least one valid point in between all his whining. Allison sent him a look which clearly determined who was the alpha in their little group (hint: it was her) and who were her bitches (unfortunately it seemed Stiles fell under this umbrella term as well as Scott.)

"I know some pretty lively people" he admitted and scrolled down to the new names in his phone. The drag queen named 'Lady Butterfly' had insistently given him his number when they were at that totally kanima related gay bar field trip. Stiles hadn't deleted it because fuck it, he was a people person and prepared like a boy scout. You never knew when you might need the number of a drag queen.

Right now would be a good example of that.

Lady Butterfly (or Rick apparently) was thrilled to hear from him and brought a shit ton of people with him/her. Lady referred to him exclusively as bambi for some reason Stiles wasn't clear on (but everyone else seemed to take it in stride.) She left a dark lipstick smudge on Stiles forehead and gifted Lydia with a nice bottle of vodka (which was a really fucking amazing present all things considered if you were sixteen and didn't live with a man who forgot to lock his liquor up like Stiles did.)

Lydia smiles and it lit up her face. Stiles swooned because he's terribly predictable. It was lovely to see that expression grace her features again. Stiles feels like a junkie who didn't realise how desperately he needed his vice until it was dangled in front of him like a carrot. Except not- because who would get hot and bothered over a carrot anyway?

Once the party is in full swing and Stiles has had copious amounts of punch, Stiles ended up in Lydia's room. Allison was being an incredibly bad bodyguard and had been side tracked by Matt who had cornered her at some point.

Stiles messed with his crossbow a little and accidentally shot Lydia's stuffed giraffe (that Stiles had affectionately nick named mountain lion.) he squeaked and tried to pull the arrow out.

Shit.

What was the rule about arrows? Don't pull them out or you'll bleed to death.

Oh wait.

It was a stuffed animal. Never mind.

"What are you doing?"

Stiles turned around to see Lydia staring at him imploring. He let out another undignified squeak and hid the evidence behind his back.

"What?" he laughed in an unnaturally high pitch tone, "why would you think something was going on?"

She shrugged and she was blurring together a little in an odd bleed of colour. He must be drunker than he thought. Though this didn't feel like any kind of drunk he'd ever been. He imagined this is what it might feel like to be high though. He gasped and swallowed in a hysterical giggle.

"What did you put in the punch?"

She cocked her head and there was a definite leer to her. She sat down on the bed and patted the space next to her in the way she had when she had been off her face on painkillers. Was she drunk now? It didn't seem right that she would be willingly talking to him.

"You're so smart Stiles," she rolls her 's's and it seemed uncomfortable in her mouth. Like she was saying someone else's words. "I can appreciate that quality in a person- you. Could be great. IF you let yourself be open to change."

She put her hand on his neck and Stiles started because holy crap. Was he dreaming? Was Lydia Martin coming onto him?!

"I'm very open to change" he assures her.

"No," she said and her hands were scraping through his fine hair, her fingernails scraping a shade too hard to feel good. "You could be, but you lie to yourself. You lie to me."

"I don't lie to you," he whined and that in itself was a blatant lie and Lydia narrows her eyes accordingly.

"That's okay Stiles. I still like you."

This was it. She was going to tell him she loved him and they would get married and get a White picket fence and then a house to go behind it. They would have two point five kids and Stiles would love that little deformed half child just as much as the other two.

"I like you... so I want to give you a gift."

"But it's your birthday," Stiles pointed out because he's stupid and-shut up mouth you're going to ruin this for him!

"I want to," she promised and now she was kissing his neck... in fact she was kissing exactly where Erica had dropped her kiss hours before moving over the scars left by Boyd. Suddenly the bottom fell out. He felt sick and wrong and cold. And God. Lydia was probably off her face on that punch. He has a feeling at least half of Lady Butterfly's present was unceremoniously dumped into the bowl.

"Woah- Lydia what are you doing?!"

She pulled back briefly and rolled her eyes, "I thought it was obvious. Would you like me to draw you a picture" her words have an extra unfamiliar bite. Maybe only unfamiliar on her tongue, the tone and words sound achingly familiar. She leaned back in and Stiles held her still. Moved her away even though it went against everything he had ever thought he wanted.

"You're… helping me," she said and her words were thick and heavy like she was coming out of a heavy sedation. "Even when you don't want to, even when it goes against every instinct. You help me."

Stiles doesn't like where this is going at all, so he stands. However uncomfortably, because the girl of his dreams did have her hands all over him a minute ago despite the incredible creeper turn the night had taken.

She pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Make sure you drink the punch," she tells him and walks away easily. Like she's suddenly become completely sober.

Stiles is left alone in her room then. Left to ghost his hands over her old knick-knacks and trinkets and wonder what happened to the girl who used to live here because she wasn't that girl anymore.

******TEENWOLF******

Stiles is well and truly gone when he starts hallucinating off the evil, EVIL punch. Punch being an apt word because the effects are much like being repeatedly punched in the gut.

His father telling him what a disappointment he is ranks number one as his all time greatest fear. It beats werewolves and kanimas and evil chemistry teachers by a wide margin. The only reason Stiles hadn't nutted up and told his dad about the supernatural freakfest populating Stiles' life is that he's worried it might break his dad.

Strike what he said before- his biggest fear isn't his dad's disappointment. It's loss. Which in a way- is sort of connected to the former fear.

Stiles lost his mother physically and has been slowly loosing his father emotionally for years. He worries that one day he's going to wake up and lie to his father and his father won't care. Because he won't care about him anymore.

That he will eventually not love him anymore.

This is traumatizing enough but it doesn't end with just what Stiles' fears are.

He's really tripping balls when he starts seeing houses light up in unbearably hot flames from a memory that isn't his. He can hear Boyd's mum's voice- pleading. Always pleading with him.

If he could just understand, but Stiles doesn't and that makes everything worse.

Then he feels the ground swallow him up and keep him while he's gasping for breath and desperately trying to claw his way out. His fingernails broken and his hands slick with blood and dirt. Banging on a door, screaming for his dad. No. Not HIS dad. But he's screaming for someone's dad at least to come let him out. That he'll be good. He swears it. He'll write it in blood if he has too.

Finally his body betrays him. His mouth fills full with blood or at least the taste of it. He spasms and it is less and more terrible than being paralyzed. There is the same loss of control but the seizure clings to him and seeps into unknown parts of him.

Ripping into him.

Then finally he's underwater. For a minuet he thinks he's wondering through someone else's fears again only to realise no, an actual person has dunked his head underwater.

His eyes are watery and he stares up Scott and a girl in the year below him, a girl who had clearly just tried to drown him. Stiles has a few choice words planned out for that girl but Scott doesn't let him say any of them.

Scott has had his big revelation, which is even bigger because it was Scott working out something on his own.

They pause momentarily so Scott can make a call. Probably to Allison. Only no. Allison has left the party. Scott isn't calling her because Scott is lying to him once again. He doesn't know how he knows this but he does. Like judges instinct or whatever. 'I can't describe it but I know it when I see it- blah, blah' some other stuff his dad tells him when he suspects he's up to no good.

Hey. Maybe he's a psychic. That would be good. Useful even… but he's off topic when he has no business or time to be either.

He checks his own phone to find several messages from Allison. The first simply reads 'dad needs me the hosp 4 sum reson- r u goin 2 b ok?'

He texts back 'sure' and don't read any of the others because there isn't any time.

Later he'll look back and regret this, but in that moment there was nothing he could do but blindly follow Scott and hope everything would work out for the best.

**A/N:** **Thank you to the following reviewers: ****tv-luvva**, **ilovealistair lj, mud, No pen names left, won't be the Victim, Cut The Dotted Line, Fritz76, neesie-luv-u, himeko63, Rachiebee, Canuck101, ZAAA, prettydamnreckless and Hanako- Tenshi. I sorry I haven't been able to thank you individually but to say I've been busy to the fandom might be an understatement.**

**I'm fairly new to this fandom and would love to talk to some people who actually like this show. I've been having a hell of a time trying to convince people that it's good.**

**The support for this story had been overwhelming and startling. A heads up on me having no idea where this story is going, so suggestions are welcome :) **


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